When I Get Rich

Too little ambition? Unmotivated slacker? A taker, not a maker, one of the 47% that Mitt worries about? Depends on who you ask, I suppose.

I've picked watermelons in the rain, scooped mud from the bottom of barges and checked the oil and water and washed the windshields.

The secret of life is that there is no secret. This is it. Me? I'm pretty sure that it's heaven. Oh, you can make it hell. I know. I have.

I just listened in on a conversation at the diner. The three yuppies were making homeless jokes. I'm not using the term, yuppie, in a derogatory fashion. I'm pretty sure that if I eavesdropped on a conversation with three homeless folks this morning that odds are good that there wouldn't be much praise of the yuppies.

We're all good people. Really good people. Some of us just need to exercise the heart muscle a little more. Oxygen for the lungs, love for the heart.

All of you who know me know that I'm never going to be rich. Not in money. That's good. I don't need anything. That dog doesn't need a new collar and I don't want to be playing with my i phone while someone is talking to me at the breakfast table.